


Right Hand Vamp

by Bang Bang Beef Keef (BangBangBeefKeef)



Series: Klance Request Line Series [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is a bit intense, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Creampie, Established Keith/Lance (Voltron), Forbidden Love, It's not mentioned in the fic but it's set in 1813, Lance is baby vamp, Light Dom/sub, Like Romeo and Juliette but they don't die at the end because they're already undead, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Prince Keith (Voltron), Prince Lance (Voltron), Secret Relationship, Top Keith (Voltron), Vampire Keith (Voltron), Vampire Lance (Voltron), Vampire Sex, light mentions of the word Blood, trigger warning for use of the word Master, warring families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28861110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BangBangBeefKeef/pseuds/Bang%20Bang%20Beef%20Keef
Summary: Once a century the Four Great Vampire Clans gather for a celebration underneath the final full moon of the thirteen year. This is the newly sired Prince Lance's first time taking part in the Moon Ball. He is only interested in seeing one invited guest, his secret boyfriend who belongs to a rival Vampire clan.*****Now featuring art by QatoQueen and bbunlance****
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Klance Request Line Series [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081907
Comments: 24
Kudos: 282
Collections: Klance: Into the Multiverse, Klasix Master Collection





	Right Hand Vamp

**Author's Note:**

> Gift work for @bbunlance on Twitter!
> 
> Dancing Vamp Klance art by @bbunlance on Twitter!
> 
> Vamp Lance art by @qatoqueen on Instagram!

Once a century the Four Great Vampire Clans gather for a celebration underneath the final full moon of the thirteen year. The event is called the Moon Ball This tradition has been upheld for a thousand years. It started during the first Vampire War and was meant to broker peace. At the very least there was to be harmony for one night, as all Vampires who share the blood of ancient Vampire Kings, come together to worship the moon and the night.

At least, that is Prince Lance’s understanding of it. A young vampire of merely Sixty, he has not lived long enough to attend one and he certainly has not been dead long enough.

“I’ve ill prepared you,” says Queen Allura, startling Lance. His vampire instincts never work on her. She can sneak up on him anytime she pleases like she has now while he’s busy tying his cravat.

“You and Coran have been coaching me on proper decorum for weeks,” says Lance, focusing his attention on his wardrobe’s mirror. He can’t see himself, nor Allura in its reflection. Dressing in front of it is pointless, but some human habits die hard. He hopes he’s still as handsome as he was in life. He misses his reflection.

“I do not mean in regards to the ball,” says Allura, crossing over to take over the task of tying his cravat. “I have not prepared you to rule.”

“There is plenty of time for that,” says Lance.

“I meant, if this night goes poorly,” says Allura, tying much rougher than necessary.

“We’re sworn to peace tonight,” says Lance, confused.

“Yet I wouldn’t put it past the Galra to break a thousand year tradition…”

“They cannot be as bad as you are describing,” and as the words fall out of his mouth, he knows he’s said the wrong thing.

“Lance,” says Allura sweetly, pausing her task to cup his cheek with a gloved hand. “You have the blood of the greatest Vampire King this world has ever known flowing through your veins,” she of course means her sire Alfor, Lance’s grandsire. “But you are far too busy bedding women in taverns to let it guide you to your destiny.” She emphasized this last part with a firm tug on his cravat. 

“What?” asks Allura after Lance doesn’t respond. “No snarky remark to keep the mood light?”

“No,” says Lance, deliberately looking Queen Allura in the eye and not looking down at her bosom, pushed up by that corset. “I do want to be known that way anymore.”

“Good,” says Allura, fixing his cravat properly. “That is the first step. Come now. The guests will be arriving.”

Lance follows her through the halls of the palace. He’s told this place was once opulent and beautiful, the pride of all the Vampire Clans, but that was before the second Vampire War that wiped out nearly every member of their clan. Treaty restrictions keep them from swelling their numbers to what they used to be. 

All of this was before Lance’s time, but he believes it. Believes the clan of Altea was a jewel for their kind. He can almost see it in the back of his mind, in the memories that came with the blood that flows within him. It’s why he so often wonders what he is doing here at all.

What he said to Allura just now, she probably thinks he means he’s ready to become a leader like her, as is his death-right, but that isn’t it at all.

Lance was wenty when he died, in the prime of his young adulthood. Poor, but fancy free. Worked as a farmer by day and spent his nights in taverns drinking and picking up women. He was a Cuban-American in London, a novelty. His accent alone was enough to turn the heads of the women. His mouth was enough to get him punched by the men.

When he met Allura he had no idea what she was, a Vampire Queen. To him she was another pretty face that caught his eye in the streets of London. He followed her, encouraged by glances over her shoulder and a curl of her finger. She was memorizing. The most gorgeous creature he’d ever seen. He would’ve followed her anywhere. The place he did follow her was to his own death. 

He was right to think of her as a creature...

Lance knows what it feels like to die. But he also knows what blood tastes like when it’s your only tether keeping you from slipping into the darkness. Knows how sweet the memory of Kings and Queens flowing bright red to his lips tastes. That is how a vampire is created. You drink of their blood after they drain you of yours and you take into you the memories of their ancestral line, containing all the pain and pleasure and wisdom of those who carried this blood before you.

He died. But then he woke up. Woke up in a palace where the creature that had killed him told him he was born again as a Prince.

For most of Lance’s afterlife, he’s carried on as if he’d never died. He went back to the taverns, to the streets of London, back to the women… He had an allure now that drew them to him easily. It was like taking candy from a baby. The downside being, he craved their blood.

“You are free to leave the palace grounds and go wherever you like,” Allura had told him when he first expressed his desire to leave, “as long as you understand one thing. You are not to kill anyone. Altean vampires do not kill. It is what separates us from those animals, the Galra.”

He didn’t know who Allura was talking about, but to Lance it seemed so logical. He still had all the morals of a human (or at least as many as he had during life) so of course he didn’t wish to kill anyone. What he hadn’t anticipated was how the temptation of the moment would fog those same morals.

He managed to feed, but never took a life. He continued to travel, to search the world for drink and loose women, returning to the Altean palace only when his Queen summoned him home.

It wasn’t pleasant being there the first decade or so. Lance couldn’t understand why Coran and the other members of the small court seemed so agitated by his presence. It wasn’t until he began to accept his training in the vampire laws that he understood the controversy behind his existence. 

The current vampire treaty has very strict laws regarding breeding, especially with royalty. A King or Queen must marry one who was sired by a royal or they may sire a new vampire to marry so the blood stays royal. Once married they are each allowed to sire one heir.

Queen Allura was not married when she sired Lance, yet she did not marry him and instead treated him as an heir. This was a defiance of the natural order of things. What it read as was she never intended to marry and follow the traditional path.

For someone so recently human as Lance, this seemed to be her choice to make. However, for every other member of the clan, Lance represented a weakening of tradition. So Lance never felt at home as an Altean Prince. He didn’t feel he fit as Allura’s ‘child’ nor was he her lover. Nothing about who he was as a human indicated he would one day be fit to be a Vampire King. 

When he dared to ask his Queen why she had chosen him, she pressed a hand to his chest, where his heart no longer beat, and said, “There is greatness within you.”

“You must remind her of her father,” said Coran, the royal advisor when Lance asked him instead. The great Vampire King Alfor.” He assumed he’d be brutally honest.

“Do I remind you of him?” Lance had asked.

“No. Not at all,” Coran had answered honestly. 

Once more, what was Lance doing here?

“Get your head out of the stars,” Allura whispers into Lance’s ear.

Lance blinks and looks around the party. He’d been drifting in his thoughts instead of paying attention to those being announced at the door. Lance sits to the right of Queen Allura’s throne to signify his place of importance with the clan and accepts the bows of the party guests who are presented to them by Coran.

The usually empty grand ballroom of the palace is finally lively and filled with vampires drinking ethically sourced blood from champagne flutes. The clans of Olkari and Balmera are present, having arrived shortly after dusk in their large parties. From the way the others are smiling, it is clear they are good company. Their clans are on good terms with Clan Altea, their truces still intact from after the first Vampire War. 

Lance has met a few of them over the years, but there are so many new faces, it’s overwhelming. There’s one face in particular he wishes to see amongst the guests, but his instincts have not felt the prick of familiarity just yet.

“No other guest should be arriving at this late house,” says Allura, rising from her throne. “We shall be lucky indeed if the Galra choose not to attend.

  
Lance smiles weakly, but he feels deeply disappointed. He can only hope Allura does not sense his low mood and use her dark gift to search his mind. Fortunately she seems busy wadding into the crowd to chat for her to notice Lance’s odd behaviour. Or perhaps she thinks him nervous. It is not often he is formally presented as the heir to Clan Altea’s throne.

A horn sounds and they all turn to the entryway where the final party seems to have arrived after all.

“Late of course,” mutters Allura under her breath. “Typical Galra.”

Allura probably would’ve been just as annoyed if they were on time, but it is impossible to get her to see them anyway but as villains. That is easily the case when another clan murders your parents and most of your people.

Putting on her calmest face, Allura steps to the center of the ballroom to greet the guests. Lance follows to stand slightly back and to her right as that is his place.

Coran stands by the door and accepts the party’s card. He clears his throat and announces their presence. “Presenting his Royal Highness King Lotor of Clan Galra, sired of King Zarkon.”

The doors swing open on cue to reveal the King and his accompanying party. Lance has seen portraits of the vampire, but never met him in person. Oil paint does not do his likeness justice. His umber skin practically glows under the candle light and his long silky white hair reaches well past his waist. 

He’s beautiful to most eyes, but Lance’s knows far greater beauty and despite being mid-bow out of respect, his eyes strain father to see if the one face he wants to see was amongst Lotor’s party, because Lance is in love with a vampire from a rival clan.

Allura curtsies and opens her mouth to greet him as cordially as she can muster when Coran continues speaking.

“And…” Everyone looks to Coran because his hand trembles as he reads from the card. “Prince Keith.”

If Lance had a functioning heart it would seize. The vampire he’s known only as Keith steps to Lotor’s right side. He looks to Lance. Purple eyes meet his. Lance wishes he could read Keith’s thoughts right at this moment. 

Why had he not told him who he is? Why lie to the vampire he’d promised himself to?

“No!” says Allura, her voice cutting through the whispers that are growing every louder throughout the ballroom. “Get that abomination out of here! He is not welcome!”

“Now, dearest Queen Allura, is that any way to treat an invited guest?” purrs Lotor. Lance immediately hates him.

“He was not invited!”

“Au contraire,” says Lotor, snapping his fingers. An invite appears in his hand and he holds it up for all to see. “He received an invitation.”

Allura’s eyes flick to Lance because of course this is his fault. The only task he was trusted with was to send out the invitations to the guest list she provided. Keith wasn’t on it, but Lance wanted him there. Wanted an excuse to see him, dance with him, because Keith’s travels so often kept them apart. 

At the time he’d thought he was sending an invite to a random, low rank clan member. How was he to know he was inviting a Prince? And based on the reaction to his presence, as controversial an heir as Lance himself.

“There seems to have been a mistake,” says Allura, looking very pointedly at Lance.

“What a disappointment,” says Lotor, “and here I thought the truce had finally inspired you to be courteous to my brother.”

“Wait…,” says Lance, unable to clamp down on his reaction. The term brother in Vampire terms means their sires were a married couple and if Lotor’s sire was the late King Zarkon…

“You did not read his full title,” says Lotor, looking to Coran with a deep, intense stare.

“I will not!” huffs Coran, crushing the calling card in his hand.

_‘They are trying to rile us up from the get go,”_ says Allura’s voice inside Lance’s head, _“We need to calm down and not fall for this.”_

“Coran,” says Allura, undoubtedly having spoken to him telepathically just the same.

Coran unfolds the paper. “Prince Keith, sired of Queen Honerva.”

There is outrage from the Altean Clan. Allura bristles and takes Lance’s hand, but keeps her composure. “You mean of Haggar,” she says, looking at Keith.

“My sire was Honerva,” says Keith, speaking for the first time. The sound of his voice sends Lance’s spirit soaring even if his mind stays firmly in the present. “Born Princess Honerva of Clan Altea. Married to become Queen of Clan Galra.”

Lance looks to Allura, shocked. This is a part of their history he was never taught. An Altean royal married to a Galra royal? This is new and exciting information...

“That name is not to be said inside my palace,” says Allura, regaining her regel composure. “If you can abide by that rule, you are warmly welcome as my guests. Prince Keith, Prince Lotor, please join in the festivities with your party.” Allura snaps her fingers and servants approach the Galrans with trays of wine glasses filled with blood.

Keith accepts one. Lotor instead declines.

“Animal blood I assume,” chuckles Lotor. “I’m afraid I already ate.” He steps to the side and the vampires behind him part to allow two others to walk forward carrying something large and heavy. It is only when a dead body is thrown at his feet does Lance realize it is in fact someone Lotor killed while feeding off of. Sadly, he recognizes the face as a vendor who lives in a nearby village.

Allura goes to launch at Lotor with full vampire speed. Lance has to sprint to stop her, grab hold of her, and press his thoughts into her mind like she taught him. _“Lotor trying to rile you up, remember? He does not want a peaceful party. He wants war.”_

Allura’s body loses some tension, no longer fighting against Lance’s grasp. She answers him inside his head, _“I told you all the Galra are monsters.”_

If Lance weren’t already dead, he’d die more. He turns to look for Keith, even though he knows he shouldn’t be so obvious with his curiosity, but the Prince has slipped away during the excitement.

************  
Keith is a fool for many reasons, for attending a party where he knew he’d be unwelcome simply because the invitation was written in Lance’s handwriting, for falling so desperately in love with the one vampire he could never have, but mostly, for betraying that love by never telling him the truth.

He does not want to be a Prince. Doesn’t want to be part of the Galra clan at all. Which is why he removed himself from the public eye centuries ago. He did not fight in the second Vampire War, the one that killed most of Lance’s clan. He hid away in the farthest reaches of the Earth like a coward. 

If he’d known the Galra would hunt the Alteans to near extinction, maybe he would’ve picked a side… but there is no room for his past in his long list of regrets. He’s behaved thoughtlessly enough times in recent memory to dwell on that instead.

It is dangerous being here, it is like claiming his title properly after centuries of rejecting it.

Still...He wants to see Lance… Even if another war begins because of him, he wants to see him. At least maybe then he can try to explain.

His premonition gift flickers telling him he’ll see Lance face to face soon and now he knows where. What his dark gift does not help him anticipate is how angry Lance may be with him once they do get the opportunity to speak.

*********

“Come, it’s rude not to dance,” says Romelle, taking Lance by the arm. All he’s been doing is searching the ballroom for Keith. He fears he left. He was just about to go check the grounds when Romelle had grabbed him.

“I’ll join later,” lies Lance.

“If the Prince does not dance, our enemies will talk,” says Romelle. She’s one of the few members of the Altean court still alive. Well, not alive… “The Queen is starting off the dance, so should you.”

Lance looks to see the dancers lining up. He’s startled to see King Lotor maneuver himself to stand across from Allura, becoming her first partner. His instincts spark, feeling great distrust for his Queen’s sworn enemy.

Now he must join the dance…

He accompanies Romelle and lines up across from her. When he was alive, Lance never attended a ball, nor was he ever invited to one due to his class. Being part of vampire culture is different. Over the past forty years he’s seen a lot of balls. Ahem, grand parties that is. The balls thing is recent and only Keith’s.

Lance enjoys the dancing part of parties most of all. Takes pride in learning all the new dances so he never has to turn down an invite. He would be excited for this part of the ball if his mind weren’t wandering, wondering where Keith may be. If his dark gift were as powerful as Allura’s, he could reach out with his mind to locate him. 

The dance starts with a bow and courtesy. It is a very old number indeed, which is unsurprising considering the company they keep. Lance moves through the steps automatically. He’s mostly interested in the conversation Allura is having with Lotor. If he focuses on Allura with his gift, he can hear what they are saying through her mind.

_“I think it is time we speak of an alliance,”_ says Lotor.

_“I would never align myself with a vampire who killed his own sire to seize power.”_

_“Oh, but Allura, you know very well my sire was a tyrant. My seizing power was to your benefit.”_

_“I am not interested in your favours.”_

_“I think you might be once you know what I am offering. The terms of the truce have not been negotiated in some time. Certainly, you are in need of some alterations in order to build your clan back up to its former glory. Particularly in regards to breeding restrictions.”_

_“Whatever price you may want in exchange, I will not pay.”_

_“Please, your majesty, you know the Altean clan is close to my heart. Queen Honerva having taught me of your customs when I was a young vampire. My own brother carries the blood memories of the clan.”_

_“And that is your true plan,”_ says Allura. _“You wish to use your brother to challenge the throne. You would likely murder me right now if I did not have an heir to take my place.”_

_“Ah yes,”_ says Lotor. “ _I always suspected that is why you created that abomination you are parading around and calling a Prince.”_

Suddenly Allura is inside Lance’s head, speaking far louder than the in life conversation he’s listening in on. _“STAY OUT OF MY HEAD! I NEED YOU TO KEEP AN EYE ON THE PRINCE!”_

Then Lance is very aggressively pushed out her head. He wonders if she had not noticed him eavesdropping in there before or if she’d allowed it until Lotor mentioned something Lance wasn’t supposed to hear.

Keep an eye on the Prince? When that’s exactly what Lance wants to do, but he does not know where Keith is. Either way, there would not be a conversation to eavesdrop on anymore as it is time to switch partners.

Lance feels a new cold palm press to his. He looks to acknowledge his new dance partner and is taken aback when he sees Keith.

“You!” gasps Lance.

“Prince Lance, I presume,” says Keith, as if he didn’t know him most intimately. _“If you are reading my thoughts, we may speak this way.”_

“Yes, pleased to meet you, your highness,” says Lance out loud, then he pushes into Keith’s head, _“You’re dancing on the woman’s side.”_

_“Am I? I have not been to a ball in two hundred years.”_

_“Then how do you know the steps?”_ asks Lance, because Keith is moving perfectly in sync with him. Lance feels a vision open inside Keith’s head, welcoming him to look at it. There, in Keith’s mind, he sees them dancing, but the moves are not what they are currently doing. “ _Very clever. You are using your premonition gift to see the moves ahead of time.”_

The image pulls itself out of Lance’s brain, as if it is sucked out.

_“No, bring it back,”_ Lance urges.

_“Of course, I forget,”_ answers Keith, allowing Lance access to that part of his mind once more. _“The only time you are able to admire your beauty is inside my thoughts.”_

_“I’ll never know if I am truly this handsome or if your feelings for me exaggerate it.”_

_“I suppose it is unknowable to either of us.”_

Watching himself dance two steps ahead inside Keith’s head while trying to dance two steps behind, inevitably, confuses Lance to the point where he turns too early and knocks right into Prince Hunk of Clan Balmera. 

“Apologies,” says Lance. He turns back to Keith to discover the partners have switched again and his old friend Prinx Pidge from the Olkari Clan is across from him. He looks one pairing down to see where Keith has ended up. _“We need to talk.”_

_“I imagine we do.”_

_“Not through thoughts.”_

_“It is your palace. Where you lead, I shall follow.”_

The song ends and the dancers clap their approval. Lance slips through the crowd before he’s noticed and can be corned into a conversation. He feels guilty escaping up the stairs and leaving the party. But then again, Allura’s instruction was for Lance to keep an eye on Prince Keith and that’s exactly what he intends to do.

**********  
As Keith follows Lance’s scent up the stairs and deeper into the castle, he wonders if the vampire is using his gift to read his thoughts right now. Can he hear how worried Keith is that Lance will be angry with him now that all eyes are off them?

Keith finds Lance in a dimly lit hallway. The finer homes in England have been upgrading to electric lights, but nothing about this ancient castle has changed in the two hundred years since Keith last visited. The Castle of Lions had been a marvelous place at the time, full of life. It is ever clear by the lack of upkeep how the devastation of the Clan Altea population brought this fine palace down with it. 

And yet… Keith feels a warmth in these halls he has not felt in centuries. But perhaps that is the glow he always feels in Lance’s company.

“Come,” says Lance, grabbing Keith’s hand the moment he steps around the corner. Keith is stiff, ready to go on the defensive against whatever harsh words Lance has for him. Instead, Lance drags him up to the wall and lifts the candle he’s holding up to illuminate a tapestry hanging there. “Look!”

Keith takes it in and it tugs at memory. For him that does not always mean he saw it in the past. A drawback of his gift, confusing memories with visions of the future. Brushing away the familiarity, Keith takes in the details of the tapestry and realizes what it is, the royal Altean family tree.

  
  
“I always wondered who this scorch mark used to be,” says Lance pointing to the hole in the place where Alfor would have a sire sibling. “I’ve heard of Haggar and how she murdered our people alongside King Zarkon. What no one told me was she was Altean born and more than that, she sired an heir… you. An heir with claims to Galra and Altea. Do you know what this means for us?”

“Yes,” says Keith, gravely. He is done looking at the family tree. He just wants to look at Lance, take him in once more. “You were bred to be my rival.”

Lance looks at him with the wide-eyed innocence only a vampire who hasn’t celebrated a centennial can maintain. “No, it means by Altean law we can be married. At least I believe it does. Royals either have to sire their own spouse or marry a noble to keep the King and Queen’s blood memory passed on. Wait… is that incest?”

“Carrying the blood memory of Kings is not the same as being born of the same flesh,” says Keith. He’s in awe over what Lance is saying, how this is the conclusion he jumped to. “Lance, you know we cannot wed. If my identity had allowed us that, I would have told you who my sire was the day we met.” Keith allows himself the indulgence of brushing the back of his hand against Lance’s supple cheek.

“Why not?” demands Lance. “Every dull law I know says we meet the exact right conditions!”

“Truce or not, our clans are at war.”

“Altea is your clan as well.”

Keith shakes his head. “Only Queen Allura has the power to accept me as both Altean and your betrothed and the possibility of her blessing both is impossible.”

Lance makes a noise that is partially a chuckle and partially a reluctant sigh. “You give up so easily.”

“My sired family murdered all of hers,” says Keith, bitterly. “There is nothing easy about my resignation.”

“I doubt that, Keith, or should I say Prince Keith? I may not have known who your sire was, but I do know you have spent two hundred years in isolation from other vampires. Resignation is your natural state.”

“You should not doubt the forecast of a vampire who has the gift of premonition. I can see into the future.”

“You do not dare to look into the future!” snaps Lance. Finally, the anger Keith was anticipating, yet his accusation is far from what Keith expected. “You fear your own power as you know it has driven others to madness, drove Haggar to kill her own kind. So do not tell me you know what the future has in store for us. Until just now I thought we had no future, but then suddenly, a path opens up and you are telling me you will not walk it with me? I love you, Keith. Do you not love me?”

If Keith’s heart could beat, it would be pounding. “I have loved you since the moment I first saw you.”

Relief washes away the look of anguish from Lance’s face. Keith steps to him and does what he’s longed to do since he stepped foot on the palace grounds, he pulls Lance against him and kisses him.

When he says he loved Lance from the first moment he say him, Lance must think he means the first time they met, their chance meeting in a tavern where Lance was trolling for his dinner and pleasure all in one voluptuous barmaid-shaped package. What he does not know, what Keith has not allowed him to read from his mind, is Keith first saw his face long before they met in one of his premonitions. So long before in fact, that it was the very first glimpse of future he ever saw. 

He had awoke from his death, spitting up dirt in the shallow grave where he’d been buried to undergo his change. He was dead… and then he was not and the horror that shook him was drowned out by the vision of a face, a face that brought him comfort like he had never known in his human life. Keith searched the world for that face. Now he knows how fruitless it was as that someone had neither been sired nor born yet. It took him three hundred years of waiting to suddenly find Lance’s face in a crowd.

Now what Lance’s young and impatient mind can not understand is Keith does not need a quick solution to how they’ll be together. He waited three centuries, he could want a dozen more as long as his face stays his future.

**********

_“Lance… Lance where are you?”_ Allura’s voice invades his brain. Lance steps back, out of Keith’s embrace.

“Are you well?” asks Keith.

_“Return to me - to me…”_ Allura’s voice echoes inside his head. From this distance it’s like she’s shouting his name down an empty hallway. _“La - Lance?”_

Suddenly, Keith lurches forward, knocking Lance’s back against the wall. He cups Lance’s face between his hands, his fangs pop out, his purple eyes glow. “GET OUT OF HIS HEAD!” he grows aggressively, as if speaking to Allura herself. “HE IS MINE AND MINE ALONE! LEAVE HIM!”

Lance feels that sucking sensation inside his head as Allura is chased. Keith’s wild, possessiveness has shut the door on his connection with his sire. He did not know that was possible… and now that it’s done he does not feel well. Lance swoons, his body melting against Keith’s. He’s faint, like he can’t hold his own body weight. 

“Easy angel, don’t fall,” says Keith, holding Lance up. “You are alright. It is difficult to disobey a sire, but you will recover quickly.

“Have you done this?” asks Lance, weakly.

“I sat out an entire vampire war orchestrated by my sire and step sire.”

“You are stronger than me,” whimpers Lance.

“My sire did not have access to my head,” says Keith, soothingly petting Lance’s hair. “To avoid orders, I simply had to hide. I am not strong, but weak. You have never taken a human life, that shows real strength.”

“I was ordered not to if you recall. But you never took anyone innocent because you knew on your own what was right and what was wrong.”

“I killed plenty who were not innocent,” says Keith. Lance knows this, knows this is his way to fed, to stalk and kill murderers and rapists.

“I wish you were the one I could take my orders from.”

Keith presses his forehead to Lance. “I would never tell you to do anything that did not bring you pleasure.”

Lance kisses him softly “Show me.”

Keith leans his body against Lance’s, presses him tightly against the wall. His kiss is heated and thick. His fangs never retracted so they nip against Lance’s lips. 

The words _‘HE IS MINE AND MINE ALONE’_ ring inside Lance’s head, haunting him. It took this night for Lance to realize how deeply he wants to be Keith’s, in every way imaginable.

“May I show you my chambers?’ asks Lance as Keith tugs at his cravat, loosening it so he can nip and suck at the sensitive skin of his neck.

“I shall have you right here,” murmurs Keith. His hand strokes against Lance’s bulge, making him feel heat like he hasn’t since he was alive. Keith lowers himself down to his knees, teasing by saying, “I’ll take you with our ancestors watching us.”

Lance’s head falls back against the tapestry as Keith frees him from the front fall of his breeches. Keith twists a hand over his length and Lance suddenly thinks better. “Retract your fangs,” he reminds Keith.

“I shall be careful,” promises Keith.

*******

A drawback of Keith’s arousal is his inability to retract his fangs. Logically, he could pleasure Lance in other ways, but he is unable to resist using his mouth on him. He won’t hurt him though, he knows it. Though the danger of it makes it all the more exciting as he uses his tongue to paint up and down Lance’s length, earning winces from his lover whenever a sharp fang so much as grazes him.

“What…,” sighs Lance. “What if we are caught out in the open?”

The thought is exhilarating, yet the hellfire that would rain down if King Lotor were to find out about their relationship…

“Use your gift,” instructs Keith, stroking Lance with his hand as he speaks. Reach out with your mind and find if any thoughts approach us.

He watches Lance’s eyes fall closed, then he gasps and opens his eyes. “There are others making love nearby! Many others…”

Oh dear Lance. It is the Moon Ball. 

“Hold them in your head,” instructs Keith, increasing the speed of his stroke. “Hear their pleasure… Know they will never compare to what I can give you…”

Lance moans, his shoulders slipping against the tapestry to thrust himself into Keith’s touch. Keith sees the candle light reflect off Lance’s fangs that have popped out now as well.

Whether he means too or not, Lance pushes what he can hear in his own mind into Keith’s head and then he’s listening in on them too… The _moans_ of the others, a cacophony of sound filling his mind. It does not feel separate from them, but feels as if all the pleasure of the palace is all focusing in on Lance. As it should be. Everything should be for him… 

Keith thinks this as he carefully slides Lance’s cock onto his tongue, keeping his mouth wide to avoid his fangs. He massages Lance’s testicals with one hand and twists and strokes at the base shaft with the other. 

Lance moans loudly, drowning out those in Keith’s head and thrusts forward into his mouth, unloading his cum, milky and sweet down his throat. Keith holds still as Lance’s member twitches on his tongue. He does not want to snag him on a fang. When he can safely withdraw, Keith moves to stand and kisses his love sweetly on the lips.

“Was it better than all of them, my pet?”

“Yes,” hums Lance. “Nothing compares or ever will compare to our love.” He glances over his shoulder and up at the tapestry. “I can only imagine our ancestors would agree.”

“Mmmm,” affirms Keith, he is busy, trying to undress Lance further.

“Not here,” says Lance, taking hold of Keith’s wrists.

“We have done here,” says Keith, “and we shall again.”

“I have the clove oil you gifted me in my chambers,” says Lance.

Keith thinks for but a moment before he says, “Lead the way.”

*********  
Lance pulls Keith into his chambers. Honestly, they are lucky it is not occupied as Lance can hear so many nearby in the throws of ecstasy in the room surrounding the. When he shuts the door, he shuts his mind too. In the privacy of his room, he trusts they will not be disturbed so there is no reason to listen for others approaching.

Lance turns to see Keith has already found the clove oil on his nightstand. No flush of the cheek reveals Lance’s embarrassment at how the decanter is half empty. He will never get used to the inability to blush unless he’s freshly fed.

“You have been touching yourself quite a bit,” says Keith.

“I think of you quite a bit,” says Lance, honestly.

“Come to me.” Keith beckons him closer to the bed and Lance obliges. Keith kisses his lips then directs him to sit on the high bed. Lance reaches for the front fall of Keith’s breeches, but he stops his hands. “You must be good before you can see master’s cock.”

Lance pouts. Has he not been the good one in this relationship? He has never lied to Keith, for one…

“You think very loudly,” says Keith, tut-tuting.

Had Lance been projecting his thoughts? He does this so often when they are together, like he cannot help wanting to show Keith everything.

Keith cups Lance’s chin and whispers, “You’ve been so good to accept me as I am. Now let me see that you are good enough to accept my cock.” Lance feels like warm candle wax, drizzling through Keith’s fingers. “Lay down and turn away from me.”

Eager to please, Lance twists to lay on his side, ass pointed towards Keith. His master works nimble fingers to undo Lance’s breeches and pulls them down past Lance’s hips. The clove oil may have felt cool as a human, but Lance is already cool to touch so it feels silky on Keith’s fingers as they enter him. 

Lance sighs. Keith had told him he’d brought this oil back from Japan centuries ago and that is special because it is a natural muscle relaxant. All Lance knows for sure is that within minutes of Keith playing with him with his fingers, he feels like a fully melted candle, just a pool of wax with a flickering flame on a mere whisper of a wick.

“I want you now. Please master?” begs Lance.

Keith’s fingers withdraw, meaning he will be prepping himself. The anticipation is overwhelming. Lance pushes to his elbow and goes to look back over his shoulder. Keith cups his chin once more and turns him back to face the bed.

“Am I not good enough for your cock yet, master?” whines Lance.

“Good enough to have it,” says Keith, “not good enough to see it yet, but I imagine you can earn that right quite quickly.”

Lance feels the head of Keith’s cock tease against his hole. He is so very tempted to look into Keith’s mind to see through his eyes, but he know Keith will sense the intrusion. Though he does not possess mind-reading abilities of his own, he’s always able to sense Lance’s power at play and can push him from his mind at will. Apparently he can also seal away truths in far corners of his head. That must be how he kept his noble title a secret.

“I can feel you at the edge,” says Keith, rubbing the head of his cock teasingly against Lance’s hole and making him gasp. “You want inside of me… if you are good, you may earn that too. For now you will take me inside of you.” With that, Keith pushes inside of Lance, making him gasp.

The fullness never fails to take Lance by surprise. He had never lain with a man before Keith. Had not thought he would ever wish to, but Keith was someone so different… the first night they met, he was undressing and bending over shortly there after. The power this cock has over him…

Keith takes him standing while Lance’s ass hangs over the side of the bed, still mostly dressed. He grabs hold of the waist of Lance’s breeches and a handful of the back of his coat and uses that as leverage to pull Lance onto his cock quite roughly.

There is no need to be gentle. Lance’s immortal body does not sustain injury easily and heals quickly when it does. The beauty of fucking another vampire is how absolutely raw they can be.

“Ah, Keith, ah,” moans Lance.

“Did I say you can speak?” growls Keith. His hand releases from Lance’s breeches, but only for the purpose of drawing back and spanking Lance.

Lance whines from the sting. It feels good, like he’s alive again, can experience pain again. Keith spanks him again and in a flash, Lance is pulled into Keith’s head. Can see himself, red-cheeked on the bed, half dressed, Keith’s cock driving into him.

He’s been good enough… he gets to look from Keith’s eyes. He twists back and Keith automatically bends to kiss him. Lance sees glowing purple eyes before their lips meet. Fangs nip at supple lips… Lance tastes blood. Keith, unable to fuck Lance and kiss him from this position, lifts a knee up and over Lance’s legs, straddles tightly over his hips so he can take Lance as he pleases.

Lance moans into Keith’s mouth, coming for his master. Keith pushes away from his kiss to rock his thrusts into Lance until he comes with a loud growl. He pulls out. They are not finished. The night is young and they are immortal.

Keith stands and walks backwards until he can let himself drop back into the armchair beside the fireplace. His eyes still shine a bright purple, there is a bit of blood on his lip, making it look like he has fed, and his fangs reflect the fire light. From how he’s sitting, his still hard cock, looks even larger than usual, emerging from the front fall of his breeches.

“Undress for me,” says Keith, simply. 

Keith gave him the same order the night they met after he’d brought Lance up to a room above the tavern. He’d flopped down in a chair, just like this and told Lance to undress for his amusement. Lance had been indignant at the request. They had not so much kissed and he was not decided on his intention to do so. And yet… he soon was persuaded to obey the order. He can reflect now on how happy he is that he did. 

This time he does not hesitate. He pulls his breeches down, feeling Keith's cum drip down between his legs. His own cum has wet his shirt. He’ll be filthier still by the end of the evening. 

“Slower,” says Keith, watching with a bemused expression.

Lance follows directions and slows his eager fingers as they undo his waist coat then his shirt. Everything is dropped to the floor. His breeches and shoes are stepped out of and then he is naked and loaming in the firelight.

Keith leans forward, taking Lance in with a careful eye. “Exquisite,” he says, breathily. “Never in my hundreds of years have I seen such beauty.”

Seemingly to understand Lance’s frustration at not being able to simply look in a mirror to confirm this as an exaggeration of a compliment, Keith pushes his thoughts into Lance’s head so he can see himself too. 

Lance gasps, taken in by the vision of his freckled brown skin, turned molten in the firelight, his eyes are dazzlingly blue, and his fangs a mark of distinguishment. Perhaps Keith sees him with love and not reality, but the way Keith sees him is all that matters.

Without waiting for orders, without asking permission, Lance lunges forward and drops into Keith’s lap. He wants him now, then again and again, because he loves him and nothing else in this grim world matters.

Keith does not admonish him for being so bold, but pulls him into a kiss. Their little bedroom games are fun, but there is an understanding now that Lance’s needs are growing too large to ask permission for everything Keith has to offer. 

Lance tears at Keith's clothing, shredding ties, popping buttons until he’s found his bare chest under all that pomp and splendor of a rich Prince’s wardrobe. When he gets down to his skin, he rakes his fingers across Keith’s chest, leaving red marks that will heal in a moment, but look so damn pretty while they last.

Keith takes charge once more, lifting Lance up as he stands then lowering them both to the floor. Lance’s back lands on the soft rug. Keith hovers himself above Lance and pauses. 

Lance wonders what for, then a new vision pushes into his head of how he looks on his back - hair wild, firelight making his skin look like a sunset, which is a sight he has not seen in forty years. Eyes of love. Almost more than Lance can take as he swallows back a lump in his throat. 

He wants Keith to look through his eyes too. An exchange of eyes is what he offers, as he invites Keith to look and shows him his dark hair cascading above Lance and framing his face. His purple eyes look like the rarest gemstones and his pale skin looks like the finest marble.

Even as a human, Keith would look like an ethereal creature. Too stunning to be part of the natural world.

Keith’s face cracks with emotion, moved by all the love and adoration Lance is sending into his mind. He hikes up Lance’s knees then pushes once more inside of him. It has been but moments since their last fuck, but it feels like a lifetime. Keith drops his weight on top of Lance and attacks his neck with kisses and bites. The way he moves inside Lance is heavenly, lighting up every nerve ending with pleasure.

“Lance…” sighs Keith against his neck.

“Yes master?” answers Lance.

*****

It’s too much for Keith. He comes suddenly and unexpectedly. He slips out of Lance by accident, his cum splashing against Lance’s thighs, testicals, and the breeches Keith is still wearing. He takes hold of his cock and guides himself right back into Lance's dripping asshole.

“Yes,” moans Lance, “yes…”

Keith knows he likes the mess, likes to be made filthy by him. Keith pushes up onto his knees and takes hold of Lance’s cock. He strokes him until Lance is mewing like a kitten. He wills Lance to see himself once more through his eyes, opening up his entire mind to him, letting all the secrets air out. Lance deserves all his truths.

Lance’s face flushes, arms weak and splayed at his sides. He looks so far gone as Keith feels him inside his own head, looking down at himself. Lance arches his back and comes in Keith’s hand, ejaculating onto his stomach.

Keith feels his asshole tighten around his cock, drawing another tremble of pleasure from him. He slows the motion of his hand and hips, but does not stop completely until he’s certain he’s milked every drop possible from Lance.

When they are spent and ready for a break from lovemaking, Keith pulls out and lays down beside Lance on the rug. He is so blissfully happy here. It is almost worth all the trouble it was to see his sire brother for the first time in centuries.

“I have such a large bed and we did not fully use it,” says Lance, out of the blue.

“Later,” says Keith. “Perhaps I shall tie you to a bedpost.”

Normally this would get a reaction from Lance, but there is a storm of emotion brewing. Keith does not need to be capable of reading Lance’s thoughts to know he is brooding.

“I think we should marry in secret,” says Lance, managing to surprise Keith. “They may not give us permission beforehand, but they must accept it once it is done.”

“I can see you have thought hard on this,” says Keith.

Lance turns his head to look at him with surprise, “I have only just thought of this, but what is wrong with my plan? Love can conquer the world, end the second vampire war for good with more than just a truce and a treaty.”

“Zarkon and Honerva believed their love would end the vampire war for good,” says Keith, “King Alfor believed it too which is why he gave his sister permission to marry into the Galra clan.” He runs light fingers over Lance’s cheek. “It did not work, Lance.”

“Didn’t Haggar - I mean - Honerva go mad?”

“Yes, by using her dark gift of premonition too much,” says Keith.

“I wonder what she saw.”

“Herself murdering those who were once her friends, I imagine.”

“Keith,” says Lance, twisting to lay on his side. “You will not see yourself murdering me if you look into the future.”

Keith sighs and wills Lance inside his head to see what fear lies there. 

“You will not,” insists Lance. “And if you can give us any hint of how to handle our situation by looking forward, it can only help us. Otherwise, I feel all we can do is run away together.”

“No,” says Keith, rolling to his side and pressing himself closer. “You are too important to your clan. I will look, okay?... I will look if you look with me.”

“Of course,” says Lance, taking hold of Keith’s hand and squeezing it tight. 

Keith presses their foreheads together and lets his eyes shut. Seeing far ahead with intention takes concentration and is all the more difficult with Lance reading his thoughts at the same time.

It tingles then stings, like stepping into a bath that is far too hot. But just like a bath, he gets used to the feeling until it’s comfortable looking ahead at what’s to come.

_He sees Lance sitting on the throne in the Castle of Lions…_ so he will be the King of Clan Altea in the future.

The part that makes sigh with relief reveals itself as the vision expands further.

_For there is Keith, sitting at his right side._

**FIN.**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Find my socials on [linktr.ee](https://linktr.ee/ChillyBang)
> 
> xoxoxBBBK


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